


What About Angels?

by idmakeitbehave



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, I promise, Injury, Love Confessions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:27:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26185660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idmakeitbehave/pseuds/idmakeitbehave
Summary: An open and shut case is never quite as simple as it seems...~Spencer found himself praying to a higher power he didn’t believe in, had never believed in. But for you, he would believe in anything. This couldn’t be it. He still had to tell you. There was still so much more for you to do.
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Reader
Comments: 5
Kudos: 212





	What About Angels?

Spencer should have seen it coming.

It was easy-  _ too  _ easy. The profile had been fairly straightforward, the paper trail simple for Garcia to track. They were so eager to make the arrest, to catch the unsub before he struck again. Finally an easy case- clear cut, open and shut. It had been so long since they had one that they didn’t think twice about it, running in head first. Straight into his trap.

The trail led them right to an abandoned warehouse. They had almost laughed at how predictable, how mundane. How many times had they seen this before? There was just one small thing that they hadn’t accounted for- a partner.

Spencer felt the noise before he heard it- before he registered what it was. A gunshot. The unsub twisted in Hotch’s grasp, sneering up at him. A quick sweep of the room confirmed Spencer’s worst fear. Everyone was accounted for. Everyone but you.

Spencer couldn’t hear anything above the pounding in his ears, the desperate hope that he would find you alive. He  _ had _ to find you alive. He ran up the stairs two at a time with Emily right behind him, weapons drawn, as Hotch called for a medic.

There you were. On the roof of the warehouse, blood pooling around you from the wound on your neck. The second unsub, the partner, stood above you, a warped smile on his face and his gun in hand. He moved towards Emily, a gunshot ringing out as he went down beside you.

Spencer ran without thinking, pushing the man off of you. You stared up at him, still conscious as he pressed his hands to your neck, desperate to stop the bleeding. Your face was alarmingly pale, your eyes fluttering closed as you struggled to breathe in.

“Stay with me, look at me!” Spencer choked out, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. “Emily, where’s the medic?”

“Five minutes out.”

Five minutes. Spencer didn’t know if you had five minutes. There was nothing he could do, aside from keep his hands securely on the wound, your crimson blood covering his hands and the tips of his shoes as he knelt beside you.

Your eyes snapped back open suddenly and you were looking at him, but he didn’t know if you were really seeing him. “Spence.” The word came out raspy, barely a whisper, but he was sure he had never been happier to hear it.

“I’m here, Y/N. I’m right here,” he reassured you, trying desperately to control his voice as you gasped in another ragged breath.

“Why-” You let out a cough, blood sputtering out and painting your lips a vivid red.

“Sh, it’s okay, don’t try to talk. Help is almost here.”

“Why are you crying?”

The sentence was like a dagger through his heart, and he choked back a sob, only vaguely aware of Emily leaning beside him, holding your wrist gently to check your pulse. “It’s faint,” she whispered, more to herself than to Spencer.

The blood was still flowing out, the pool growing larger around you. Spencer pushed down harder, wincing as he did so. The only hope you had was if he could stop as much of the bleeding as possible. “I’m sorry, I know it hurts.”

Your eyes shot over to him, a toothy, bloody smile on your face. “What hurts?”

Emily glanced at JJ, both of their faces pale with worry. Sirens sounded in the distance, a noise Spencer only faintly registered. His only focus was on you as he watched your breathing slow, your head lolling to the side.

“Stay with me!” It was a plea, desperate and cracked. This couldn’t be it. There was no way this was it. Spencer stared down at you, praying to a higher power he didn’t believe in, had never believed in. But for you, he would believe in anything. You- his coworker, his best friend, the person he had been in love with for almost two years. This couldn’t be it. He still had to tell you. There was still so much more for you to do.

Spencer should have seen it coming. He should have stopped it. The guilt weighed him down, clouding his sight as he tried desperately to concentrate. The sirens had stopped. The medics must have arrived.

You coughed again, your body jerking violently as Spencer struggled to keep his hands on your neck. Footsteps echoed up the stairwell. They were taking so long. Why were they taking so long?

“Spence.” His eyes snapped back to yours as you stared up at him. Your eyes were glassy, the breaths coming out even more slowly. A lone tear trailed down your cheek, and he heard JJ muffle a sob from behind him. “Spence. I think you’re my angel.”

Time seemed to freeze as Hotch pulled him away from you, the medics moving at half speed as they pulled you onto a backboard and began their careful descent down the stairs. Spencer stood motionless, his hands caked in your blood, his feet cemented in the pool of liquid.

Hands guided him down the stairs, out of the warehouse. He wasn’t sure who. He followed silently, going through the motions as though they were happening to someone else. They had to be happening to someone else. It couldn’t be you on that backboard, you being loaded into the ambulance. You, so vibrant and full of life. You who always teased him for his crooked tie and always told him silly jokes, just so you could try to get a laugh out of him. He would never tell you, but he knew how much you loved when he said that your jokes didn’t make logical sense. That’s why he would always say it to you. Anything to see you smile.

The lights of the ambulance faded in the distance as Emily tugged him into the SUV, Derek driving at a speed that was probably well above the legal limit. Spencer stared out the window, acutely aware of your blood under his fingernails, seeping through his shirt sleeves. This was one of your favorite shirts of his. The thought was odd, ridiculous even, but he couldn’t seem to shake it. He couldn’t let you see this shirt like this. You would be so upset.

He blinked and they were suddenly pulling into the hospital. He found himself opening the door before the car had even come to a complete stop, his feet moving without his permission. Emily and Derek followed, bloody footprints trailing down the hallway behind him. They came to a skidding stop in front of the nurse’s station. He wasn’t sure who asked for you- it could have been him or one of the teammates beside him. He felt like he wasn’t truly there, just following along as it happened, hovering above as the events unfolded.

The fluorescent lights of the hospital were blinding and they followed the nurse down a long corridor, Emily’s hand resting on his shoulder as they walked. They turned towards a waiting room, Hotch, JJ, and Rossi rising to meet them.

“How- how is she?” Spencer’s voice felt disconnected, like it was coming from somewhere far away. Like he had no control over his own words.

“She’s in surgery. She’s lost a lot of blood. The doctors said she was lucky, another centimeter over and it would have perforated her carotid.”

_ Lucky. _ The bitterness in Spencer’s throat constricted his breathing, blurred his vision. He felt a hand on his back, heard someone urging him to sit. He found himself in a chair, more by sheer force than actual intent.

_ Lucky. _ It should have been him. He wished it had been him. He should have seen it coming. It was too easy. Too cut and dry. He should know better. Nothing is ever that easy.

Emily shot him a look, knowing exactly what he was thinking. “Hey, hey. You can’t blame yourself. None of us saw this coming. He didn’t profile as someone working in a team. We had no way of knowing.”

Spencer nodded shakily, eyes unable to meet hers. No words would be able to stop the guilt from dragging him down.

The minutes turned into hours, time dragging by slowly. The blood- your blood- remained on his hands, under his nails, caked to the soles of his shoes. He knew logically that he should go to the bathroom, wash it off, but he remained planted in his seat. He stared down at his hands as he thought back to the last moments on that roof, the last words you said to him.  _ “I think you’re my angel.” _ He hoped against hope that those were not the last words he got to hear from you. They couldn’t be. There was still so much for him to do.

That bloody smile you had given him was seared into his mind. Every time he closed his eyes he saw it, the blood spilling out of your mouth as you grinned up at him, delirious, slipping away from reality. He tried hopelessly to erase the memory, replace it with the smiles you gave him when you tickled him and made him drop his muffin or when you snuck up behind him and scared him in the breakroom. He sat lost in thought, only registering that someone had walked through the doors when he saw the rest of the team stand up, worry etched across their faces.

The doctor held a chart in her hands, glancing up to look at each of them. Spencer tried to read the look on her face, determine the news she was about to give, but it was as though the profiler portion of his brain had turned off, powered down. “It was pretty touch and go for a while. She lost a lot of blood, but we were able to stabilize the bleeding. She’s going to be alright.”

The air left the room for a moment as the meaning of her words registered with them. You were going to be alright. You were going to be alright.

Spencer opened his mouth, shutting it again before looking at Hotch. He couldn’t find the words. There  _ were  _ no words. The older man nodded, motioning for him to follow the doctor to your room.

Once at your side, hands finally scrubbed clean of your blood, he stared down at you, his hand moving to grasp yours. You were still so pale, the color in your cheeks just starting to return. Someone had washed the blood out of your hair, twisting it into a braid. He let out a half-hearted chuckle, knowing that you would hate it.

He sat like that for what felt like hours, though he had no idea how much time had truly passed. His hand remained firmly in yours as he drifted in and out of sleep, his head jerking up when he felt a squeeze, the lightest pressure on his fingers.

“Mm,” you groaned groggily, turning your head towards him. “Spence.”

Spencer choked back a broken laugh, tears filling his eyes at the sound of your voice. “I’m right here. You’re okay. I’m so glad you’re okay.”

You blinked up at him, trying to force your vision to focus. His grip on your hand tightened and you smiled weakly- still just as bright and effervescent as you always were. That last bloody smile was suddenly eons away, replaced by this sudden sight. This smile that he had not been sure he would get to see. A tear slipped down his cheek as he stared at you.

“Hey, hey,” you whispered. “Don’t cry. I’m alright. I’m with you.”

Spencer merely nodded, his lips quivering. “I- I thought I lost you.”

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” You reached your free hand up to trace his cheekbone, wiping away the tears. “Come here. Come closer.”

He leaned towards you, looking at you questioningly as you kept your hand on the side of his face. You drew him closer to you before pressing a kiss to his lips, your fingers winding through his hair. His hand tightened instinctively around yours before returning the kiss, feather light and sweet.

When he pulled away, he blinked at you with wide eyes, lips parted. You let out a faint laugh at the shell shocked look on his face, squeezing his hand again. “I love you. I have for a long time, Spence. I should have told you before this, but-”

“I love you.” He leaned back towards you, brushing your lips softly with his again. You smiled against his mouth before breaking the contact to stare up at him. His gaze met yours and he said a silent thanks to whatever powers that may or may not be that allowed him to have this moment with you. This moment he hadn’t been sure he would get.

“I still think you’re my angel.”


End file.
